


Twenty Questions (We Tell the Truth)

by aktura



Series: All's Well That Ends Well (To End Up With You) ‘verse [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Behold my attempt at humor, Bottom Steve Harrington, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Lucas is so done with everything (and also broke), M/M, Not Beta Read, Possessive Dustin Henderson, Relationship Reveal, Riding, Secret Relationship, Top Dustin Henderson, Topping from the Bottom, Unsafe Sex, but nothing happens because I'm top!Dustin for life yo, mentions of switching, talk of voyeurism/exhibitionism (but no actual voyeurism/exhibitionism)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aktura/pseuds/aktura
Summary: It’s on a particularly warm Friday evening in March, when they’re on their way home from the arcade, that Mike decides to open his big mouth.“So,” he says, “Steve has a girlfriend.”In which Dustin realizes it's probably time he and Steve come clean to the Party.





	Twenty Questions (We Tell the Truth)

**Author's Note:**

> This is stupid, but I enjoyed writing it, <strike>probably because</strike> even if it's 60% porn.
> 
> Also, whoops this is now a series.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

//  
  
It’s on a particularly warm Friday evening in March, when they’re on their way home from the arcade, that Mike decides to open his big mouth.  
  
“So,” he says, “Steve has a girlfriend.”  
  
He proclaims it so matter-of-fact that it almost stops Dustin dead in his tracks, because this is the news he's been dreading for _years_. Hearing that Steve’s finally found someone – someone other than Dustin, who’s hopelessly, stupidly in love with him; Dustin, who’s not ready to share Steve with anyone else in any way whatsoever; Dustin, who’s—  
  
—who's the girlfriend Mike’s talking about.  
  
Dustin bristles. “No, he doesn't.”  
  
“Are you _for real?_” Lucas throws him an incredulous look. “Have you _seen his neck?_ He looks like he lost a fight with a vacuum cleaner!”  
  
“Looks normal to me,” Dustin snaps. So what if he likes putting his mouth on Steve, marking him up a little? People need to learn to mind their own damn business.  
  
“Dustin's been single for too long to recognize the signs,” Max proclaims and takes a bite out of her ice cream cone.  
  
Dustin scowls as they all laugh, and Will – _Will_, who he thought was his _ally_ – wonders out loud if maybe Steve's girlfriend has a younger sister that Dustin can date.  
  
Dustin realizes that it's probably long past due that he and Steve come clean.  
  
//  
  
“I’m dating Steve. We’re seeing each other,” Dustin says. “Romantically. Sexually.” _We’re fucking each other’s brains out, and it’s great._  
  
His reflection in the mirror looks thoroughly unimpressed. _Fuck you too_, Dustin thinks, and the reflection glares back at him.  
  
This isn't going well.  
  
“Dustin?”  
  
Dustin blinks as Steve suddenly appears in the doorway of the en suite bathroom. His face is set in a slight frown, but Dustin gets kind of distracted by the way Steve’s shirt stretches across his chest when he crosses his arms, and he only manages to pull his eyes away when Steve says, “What the hell are you doing?”  
  
“Mike thinks you have a girlfriend,” Dustin blurts out, feeling his cheeks heat up; he’s a bit horrified by how petulant he sounds, but Steve just laughs. He looks relaxed and happy, dressed down in a T-shirt and pajama pants, as ready for bed as Dustin had been before his mind started to wander while he was brushing his teeth.  
  
“Yeah?” Steve says, grinning at Dustin in the mirror. “Is she hot?”  
  
“Fuck you,” Dustin halfheartedly tells both Steve and his own reflection.  
  
Steve tilts his head and hums thoughtfully, giving Dustin a _look_ before turning and stepping out of the bathroom, and Dustin’s left to stare at the empty doorway for a moment before he scrambles to turn the light off and follow Steve.  
  
He finds him standing by the foot of his bed, already in the process of pulling his T-shirt off.  
  
“You’re really stressed out about this, huh?” Steve says, voice slightly muffled behind the fabric.  
  
“Yeah,” Dustin breathes, feeling like he’s been punched in the chest. He thinks it’s understandable; he’s sixteen, and the thought of sex – of _Steve_ and any kind of activity that involves any level of nudity – is enough to make him lose his mind just a little, blood abandoning his brain in favor of rushing to his dick.  
  
He doesn’t think Steve minds – hopes Steve thinks it’s flattering that he can make Dustin all tongue tied by simply taking his shirt off, because Dustin can’t imagine that— that someone as stoic as Nancy, for example, had ever turned monosyllabic whenever Steve undressed in front of her.  
  
And sometimes he suspects that he’s right – that Steve kinda likes it, the attention and the blatant appreciation Dustin can’t help but show whenever they’re this close, because Steve gets a look in his eye in those moments, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Dustin.  
  
It’s like he revels in it, turning almost a little flirty; it’s in the tilt of his head, the way he draws his movements out like he’s giving Dustin a show. He’s doing it now too, stretching in an exaggerated way as he pulls his T-shirt over his head, giving Dustin plenty of time to ogle the way his pants are hanging low on his hips, showing off his belly and the cut of his hip bones, the sparse trail of hair disappearing into his waistband, leading down to the bulge of his cock.  
  
“How about we switch it up?” Steve says when the shirt is finally off. “Why don’t you let me do the heavy lifting tonight?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dustin says again, still a bit dazed, but he’s up for anything – whatever Steve wants to do, Dustin’s sure he’ll enjoy the hell out of it.  
  
Steve grins and pushes his pants down without any of his previous showmanship. His cock bobs with the movement, half hard already and a bit wet at the tip, apparently simply from the anticipation of what’s about to happen, and that alone makes Dustin’s dick twitch and his fingers shake as he fumbles with the drawstring on his pajama pants.  
  
Steve huffs a laugh and steps forward to help, nimbler fingers pulling the knot apart, but then seemingly can’t but help slip a hand down to cup Dustin through his pants, gently squeezing.  
  
Dustin makes a strangled sound, reaching out to grab at the bare skin of Steve’s hips, bucking up against his hand, and Steve grins and kisses him, just a light peck before he regrettably pulls both his lips and touch away.  
  
“C’mon,” he says, “get undressed and lie down on your back.”  
  
Dustin hurries to comply, eyes fixed on Steve’s ass as Steve heads to the bedside dresser to fetch the lube they keep there, and by the time Dustin's pulled his socks off, Steve’s already kneeling on the bed, waiting for him, pretty dick flushed and hard where it rests along his thigh. Dustin doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed too, turning to lie down on his back in the middle of the mattress as Steve shuffles to the side to make room for him.  
  
He’s a bit unsure of what’s going to happen – of what Steve’s got planned – and wonders if maybe he should spread his legs to show that he’s okay with whatever. He’s— he’s not _averse_ to the thought of Steve fucking him. They haven’t done that yet, and he’s tried to touch himself there a few times, just to see if he’ll like it, but it always feels strange; he can’t seem to enjoy it the same way Steve does, even when he tries to picture the way Steve’s eyes kind of lose focus whenever Dustin pets at his hole or the way his lips part in a little sigh when he finally gets a finger – or Dustin’s cock – in his ass.  
  
What Dustin _does_ know is that he _really_ likes fucking Steve, and unless he’s completely misread the signs, Steve hasn’t indicated that he wants to return the favor; even now he moves to straddle Dustin, dick bobbing with the motion, and takes a seat on Dustin’s thighs. Dustin’s hands automatically rise to find rest on Steve’s hips as he watches Steve uncap the lube and sloppily wet his fingers before reaching behind himself.  
  
Dustin scowls. “You don’t have to do _all_ the work,” he says, a bit disappointed that he can’t see what’s going on.  
  
Steve grins. “Yeah?” His voice is kind of breathy in that way that lets Dustin know exactly what he’s doing. “Feel free to help, then.”  
  
Dustin’s not about to reject the invitation, because this is also something he really enjoys doing; he slides one hand around to rest against the small of Steve’s back and then uses the other to push himself up until he’s sitting, Steve balanced in his lap, before he reaches for the lube.  
  
He tries his best not to spill it all over the bed, which is a bit of a challenge when Steve leans in to place a line of sloppy kisses along his jaw, but once his fingers are properly slicked he reaches behind Steve, tracing his way down Steve’s arm to where his middle finger is knuckle deep inside his hole.  
  
Dustin pets at the stretched skin around it, and Steve makes a choked sound, turning his head to give Dustin an open mouthed kiss that’s wet and hot and steals Dustin’s focus for far longer than he wants to admit. Steve doesn’t seem interested in removing his finger, so when Dustin finally comes back to himself he simply adds his own alongside it, carefully pressing inside to the first knuckle as Steve shudders and rocks forward, cock brushing against Dustin’s own and dickhead bumping against his stomach, leaving a wet trail of precome.  
  
Dustin presses on, searching out Steve’s prostate, and Steve whines into his mouth when he finds it. “You’re good at this,” he gasps, and begins to tremble when Dustin doesn’t let up. “Dustin—”  
  
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Dustin says. He feels a bit lightheaded, the way he often does when they do this, like his mind still can’t comprehend that it’s actually happening.  
  
Steve lets him get another finger inside, and rocks his hips against the pressure as Dustin carefully stretches him open, swallowing Steve’s sighs, shivering whenever Steve ruts forward and their cocks bump against each other.  
  
“Okay,” Steve gasps eventually, pulling away from Dustin’s mouth and removing his finger so that he can grip Dustin’s wrist, “that’s enough,” and Dustin reluctantly pulls his own fingers out, letting Steve place a hand on his chest to push him down against the mattress again.  
  
Steve sits back on Dustin’s thighs. “Now,” he says with a grin, “hands to yourself,” and Dustin has to clench his fists into the sheets to avoid reaching for him as Steve wraps a hand around Dustin’s cock.  
  
His fingers are still slick with lube, so it feels pretty amazing when he slowly starts to jerk Dustin off, cleverly petting at his foreskin, pulling it back and rubbing his thumb under the head, making Dustin tremble and blurt precome that adds to the wet slide of Steve’s grip. Dustin fumbles for the lube, pouring some more into Steve’s palm when he reaches out, and Steve rewards him for his helpfulness by rubbing a finger over the slit of Dustin’s cockhead.  
  
“Steve—” Dustin groans, feeling the familiar pressure building, and Steve quickly wraps his fingers around the base of Dustin’s dick, squeezing. “Fuck!”  
  
Steve laughs, tightening his grip and reaching down to cup Dustin’s balls with his other hand, gently holding them in his palm as he waits. It’s not until Dustin nods to him that it’s okay that he starts jacking him again, slicking Dustin some more before releasing both his dick and balls, and sitting back. “That’s enough, I think.”  
  
Dustin makes a noise of protest as Steve rises onto his knees, but quiets down when he shuffles forward and places a hand on Dustin’s chest. His cock bobs with the motion, the head nudging wetly at Dustin’s sternum, and Dustin’s breath catches in his lungs as Steve reaches behind himself and Dustin finally understands where this is heading, because they’ve never done it like this before.  
  
He can feel Steve’s fingers grab at his cock, the head of it bumping against the back of one of Steve’s thighs, making Dustin shiver, and then Steve shifts, edging backwards. He holds Dustin’s dick steady, and Dustin groans as he feels the pressure against his cockhead before Steve’s body opens up for him – Dustin forces his eyes to remain open even when all he wants to do is close them in the face of the warm, soft clench that’s enveloping him, because he’s got a pretty great view like this; can see Steve’s lips part in a gasp as Dustin’s dick slowly pushes inside of him, the way his own cock stays hard as he slowly takes more of Dustin’s length, precome spilling onto Dustin’s skin as that familiar, pleasured look appears in Steve’s eyes.  
  
“Fuck, you feel good,” Steve pants, rocking back to take another inch, and then another, keeps going until he’s fully seated on Dustin’s cock, both hands now resting on Dustin’s chest.  
  
“Yeah?” Dustin dares to touch Steve’s knees, and when there’s no protest he slides his hands up Steve’s thighs and settles them on his hips, fingers flexing.  
  
“Mhm,” Steve sighs, his eyelashes fluttering as he bites his lip and shifts his hips, starting up a fine grind, “_real_ good. So thick, fuck—“  
  
Dustin groans at the movement, rocking his hips up and pulling Steve down at the same time, pushing in deep, and Steve makes a wild, strangled noise, fingers clenching against Dustin’s chest, so Dustin does it again, and then again, lifting and pushing, until Steve’s mindlessly riding Dustin’s cock, back arched and head thrown back. They’re making a lot of noise – Steve keening where Dustin brushes against his prostate, Dustin groaning at the tight, slick slide of him – and it’s a hard fuck, the headboard of the bed knocking violently against the wall.  
  
Somewhere in the back of his mind, in a place that’s still capable of forming thought, not yet completely overwhelmed by the hot-white pleasure of fucking Steve, Dustin’s happy that they’re at Steve’s house, where there’s no one to hear them or walk in on this.  
  
Because Steve feels amazing inside, all warm, soft pressure fluttering around Dustin on every down-stroke and then clenching around him when he rises, like he doesn’t want to be empty, like he wants to keep Dustin tucked up inside him forever – and Dustin would, he’d stay forever buried in Steve if he could, snug against his insides; right now he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop even if someone _did_ walk in through the bedroom door – he’d just keep on going, fucking Steve, letting everyone hear the slap of his balls against Steve’s ass and the cries Dustin’s pushing out of him, hear how good he’s making Steve feel, and see how beautiful he looks when he’s got Dustin’s cock in him – the satisfied expression on his face and the tight stretch of his hole as he lets Dustin fuck him, the way he spreads his legs and pushes back for more, to take Dustin deeper.  
  
Dustin’s next thrust is hard enough to unseat Steve, who makes a plaintive sound and fumbles behind him for Dustin’s dick, bearing down to take it back inside of him again with a soft, relieved sigh that make Dustin’s balls draw up against his body.  
  
He reaches for Steve’s cock, but Steve grabs his wrists, placing Dustin’s hands back on his hips and holding them there as he grinds down, twisting his hips, thighs quivering.  
  
“No, wait, wait—” he pants, rocking his hips with a devastated look on his face, one that Dustin recognizes and which tells him that his dick’s right up against Steve’s prostate – and it’s kinda blowing Dustin’s mind, the way Steve’s pretty much just using him at the moment, taking the pleasure he wants without letting Dustin help or put his hands on him.   
  
“Right there, oh _fuck, right there_—” Steve moans, and then his eyes widen and he shudders, whining and squeezing Dustin’s wrists as he comes, shooting across Dustin’s stomach without as much as a touch.  
  
He collapses against Dustin’s chest, making small satisfied noises and rubbing his dick against the wetness pooling there as he releases his grip on Dustin’s wrists, and Dustin’s quick to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist, holding him in place as he draws his legs up and begins to thrust into him, bowled over by the almost violent clench of Steve’s insides around his cock.  
  
“That was so hot—” he pants “—didn’t even have to touch you, fuck—”  
  
Steve gasps in his ear, squirming and whimpering as Dustin keeps brushing against his prostate, and Dustin flashes back to earlier, the way Steve undressed for him, and can’t help but think the abhorrent thought of some faceless girl, person, whatever – _someone other than Dustin_ – drawing these kinds of noises out of him; it makes him slide his hands down to clutch at Steve’s ass, holding him in place, spreading him wider as he tries to thrust harder, fingertips slipping up against Steve’s hole to feel the skin of the rim clinging to Dustin’s dick.  
  
“You’re mine,” he grunts, grinding as deep into Steve as he can get, feeling his cock flex and jerk as he spills inside of him.  
  
“Yeah,” Steve breathes, grabbing Dustin’s chin with sticky fingers and turning his head so that he can kiss him, even if Dustin’s kind of useless right now, not really able to reciprocate while his brain’s basically shooting out of his dick.  
  
“Hmm,” Steve murmurs when Dustin finally begins to respond to the kiss, dipping his tongue into Steve’s mouth in motion with how his hips are still rocking against Steve’s ass, using his cock to push his come deeper. “Feeling better now?”  
  
Dustin grunts, shoving his softening dick into Steve one last time, as deep as he can, holding it there. “Fuck, you know I am.” He curls his hands over Steve’s ass, fingertips massaging inner thighs sticky with lube and come and sweat, before reaching down to pet at the soft skin still stretched around his cock.  
  
Steve shivers and pushes himself up on his elbows, patting Dustin’s side as Dustin carefully pulls out of him. “You did good,” he says.  
  
Dustin hums. “Thought you did all the work?”  
  
Steve just grins.  
  
//  
  
Dustin decides to keep it short and sweet.  
  
“So, uh, I’m in love with Steve,” he says, “and—”  
  
“Fucking _finally!_” Lucas loudly exclaims and falls back onto the couch with a relieved groan, like a giant burden has been lifted from his shoulders.  
  
Max, who’s sitting next to him, raises her arms in a victory pose. “Jackpot! Bring it out!” she cries, pulling a laugh from El, who’s curled up against Mike on the opposite side of the couch.  
  
Mike, though, just rolls his eyes. “You couldn’t have held out for another two years?” he asks Dustin, looking honest to God _put out_, and Dustin hates every single one of them.  
  
“Did you shitheads _bet_ on me?!” he demands to know as Will opens a drawer in the desk that sits beneath the staircase of the Wheeler basement and pulls out a piece of paper.  
  
It’s covered in pink hearts – El’s handiwork, for sure – and Dustin can make out his own name as well as Steve’s scrawled across the top of it before Max stands and grabs the document out of Will’s hands.   
  
“Hear ye, hear ye!” she says, brandishing the paper in front of her like she’s a town crier from years past. “I do hereby proclaim that the rest of you dipshits owe me five dollars each!”  
  
Dustin flushes red. “You _did _bet on me!”  
  
“So what?” Lucas grumbles. “Everyone already knows that you’re in love with Steve. And if you’d been able to admit it before now, I wouldn’t be out five bucks!”  
  
“Cheer up, sport,” Max tells him. “Maybe I’ll treat you to something nice later.”  
  
“From the bottom of my soul,” Dustin says as Will retrieves the paper, flips it over, and accepts a pen from Mike, “I hate all of you. So much.”  
  
“Phase Two,” Mike announces as Will scribbles the words onto the back of the paper. “When will Dustin tell Steve? Place your bets!”  
  
Max laughs and grabs the pen from Will. “Oh, that’s never gonna happen. _N-E-V-E-R_,” she spells out and then signs her name.  
  
“You can’t bet ’never’!” Lucas cries, pushing himself up off the couch. “Then we have to wait until one of them dies to find out if you won! I can’t wait that long!”  
  
“You have to put down something else,” Mike agrees. “Something more realistic.”  
  
“Fine,” Max says. “Ten bucks says he won’t do it before, uh, he turns thirty.”  
  
“Ten bu— I can’t afford _ten bucks_, I’m already down five!” Lucas protests as El starts to draw tiny hearts in the margins of the paper with a marker pen Dustin never even saw her fetch.  
  
“You want to place a bet this time?” Mike asks her, but she just shakes her head, moving to the side to make room for Will, who’s recovered his pen.  
  
“I believe in you,” he tells Dustin, before jotting down his own wager.  
  
“Fuck you shits,” Dustin says, “I’m going home.”  
  
//  
  
Predictably, Dustin ends up at Steve’s house instead of his own, and when he arrives it's to find Steve in the process of making a sandwich in the kitchen.  
  
“How’d it go?” Steve asks, face lighting up with a smile when he sees Dustin in the doorway. “Did you tell them?”  
  
“Uh,” Dustin says, “kinda?”  
  
Steve lowers the butter knife he’s holding. “What do you mean, ’kinda’?”  
  
“I told them I love you,” Dustin explains, trying not to get distracted by the pleased look that appears on Steve’s face, “and then I left before I could tell them we’re dating.”  
  
Steve sighs, putting the knife down. “Dustin...”  
  
“They were being little shits about it!”  
  
It’s interesting, the instant change in Steve’s body language; he rolls his shoulders back, rising to his full height, and sets his jaw as his gaze runs the length of Dustin’s body, probably checking for any physical signs of harm.  
  
“Did they give you any trouble?” Steve demands to know, and he sounds upset. Dustin knows it’s because no matter how much Steve complains or states otherwise, he loves all of Dustin’s friends, and the thought of them rejecting Dustin because of Steve is— is unimaginable to Dustin, but he now realizes that it’s probably something that Steve’s been secretly worried about.  
  
“No!” Dustin’s quick to say, because the bet seems kind of trivial all of a sudden. “But, uh, they all had this bet going, about when I’d admit to being in love with you. And then they started a new one, on when I’d _tell you_.”  
  
“Oh.” Steve relaxes back against the counter. “And that’s when you left?”  
  
Dustin scowls. “They didn’t deserve to know.”  
  
Steve shakes his head as the tension finally bleeds from his body. “Dustin...”  
  
“Do you—” Dustin hesitates; it’s only been a few weeks, so he sometimes forgets that he’s part of a _we_ now – that he has to take Steve into account too, in certain situations. “Do you think I should’ve told them anyway? I mean, they’re your friends too.”  
  
“They’re pains in my ass, that’s what they are,” Steve grumbles, turning his back to Dustin as he walks over to the fridge, but Dustin can still hear the amused undercurrent in his voice pretty clearly. “And didn’t you guys all have a bet going about Will and that boy last year?”  
  
“Will knew about that,” Dustin mutters. “He was there when we came up with it.”  
  
“And he didn’t talk to you for, like, three days,” Steve says, opening the fridge and reaching inside to grab a box. “I remember because you wouldn’t stop bitching about it. Do you want ham on your sandwich?”  
  
“Yes please,” Dustin says. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “Do you want me to tell them? I could go back and do it, if you want. Or you could do it. I don’t care. We could do it together?”  
  
Steve opens the box and gives its contents a sniff, deeming the ham safe to eat judging by the way he pushes the fridge door closed with his foot before padding back to the counter.  
  
“Eh,” he says. “I’m kinda curious about what your endgame is, actually.”  
  
“Right,” Dustin says, “I should probably have one of those.”  
  
Steve shoots him a grin, and Dustin can’t help but walk over and press himself against Steve’s back, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rests his head against Steve’s shoulder, swaying with the motions as Steve fiddles with the sandwiches, feeling the muscles in his back move.  
  
“I kinda like it,” Dustin confesses, “that it’s just the two of us that know.”  
  
“And Robin,” Steve reminds him.  
  
“And Robin,” Dustin concedes, frowning. “And now you’ve ruined it.”  
  
He can feel Steve’s body shake as he laughs. “So how would that even work? If we never told anyone else?”  
  
Dustin shrugs against his back. “Dunno,” he says, because he’s spent the past few weeks so focused on Steve and the way he— kisses, fucks, makes Dustin _feel_, that nothing else has really mattered. He hasn’t had much time to think about how what they’ve been doing – what they _are_ now – will affect other people.  
  
Steve pushes away from the counter, forced to turn in Dustin’s embrace when Dustin refuses to unwrap his arms from around him.  
  
“It’s just a what-if, after all. Since you can’t keep a secret to save your life, I mean,” Steve says, and Dustin digs his fingers into Steve’s side, making him jump.  
  
“Not true,” he mutters as Steve laughs and tries to shy away from Dustin’s touch, shaking his head.  
  
“You get all huffy and twitchy,” Steve continues, reaching up to run his hand through Dustin’s hair, tugging at the curls. “That’s the tell. And then it’s only a matter of time before someone wheedles it out of you.” He tilts his head, considering. “It’s kinda cute.”  
  
Dustin grins despite himself, leaning in to give Steve what he intends to be a quick kiss, but which ends up involving a lot more tongue than anticipated and Steve pressed up against the counter, rubbing his hips against where Dustin’s shoved one of his legs up between Steve’s.  
  
Dustin only comes back to himself when Steve pulls away to murmur, “So, if we want to keep it a secret, we’ll have to be real careful...” against his lips.  
  
It makes Dustin perk up, because that’s Steve-the-boyfriend speaking, which is a side of Steve that Dustin’s been delighted to discover and explore more of once they started dating – it’s the same Steve who puts on a show when he undresses for Dustin, who’s flirty and playful and _sexy_, with a mouth dirty enough to match Dustin’s own.  
  
“Yeah?” Dustin breathes, trying not to sound too eager. He leans forward to nip at the side of Steve’s neck with his teeth, carefully shifting his hips to press the line of his dick into the grove of Steve’s hip. “We will?”  
  
Steve shivers, spreading his legs further and tilting his head to the side to give Dustin more room to work, and Dustin’s only happy to oblige – he pulls at the collar of Steve’s shirt, mouthing at the skin that’s revealed as he starts to grind his hips into Steve’s, mindful not to leave too many marks, at least none that will be visible.  
  
“Yeah,” Steve sighs, cupping the back of Dustin’s head. “Yeah, real careful. You can’t touch me like this if you want to keep it a secret.”  
  
Dustin raises his head. “Maybe I can,” he argues, reaching down to sneak a hand up under the hem of Steve’s shirt, dipping his fingertips into the waistband of his jeans. “I can touch you, like, when people aren’t looking,” he says, slipping his hand further into Steve’s pants, into his boxers, following the treasure trail down to nudge his fingertips against the base of Steve’s cock.  
  
Steve’s lips part and he shivers, hips bucking; Dustin can feel his dick twitch, long and fat, where it’s pressed along his thigh, and he makes Steve hold his gaze even as Steve’s face starts to flush a soft pink, neither of them looking away as Dustin slowly touches him, petting at his pubic hair.  
  
“We’ll go out to eat,” Dustin says, feeling brave, heart pounding in his ears, “and I’ll touch you under the table, and you won’t be able to tell me to stop because then everyone would hear.”  
  
Steve makes a choked noise, reaching out to cup the back of Dustin’s head, pulling him close so that he can kiss him, licking deeply into his mouth like he— like he _likes_ the thought of Dustin doing that to him, likes he _loves_ it, and Dustin would never— he wouldn’t have the balls to actually _do it_, but—  
  
He pulls his hand free of Steve’s waistband, reaching down to find where Steve’s cock is outlined against his jeans instead, and presses his fingertips against the head of it – the denim’s already damp from precome there, and Dustin rubs in circular motions that makes Steve whimper and tremble, fumbling for purchase against the counter and sending the butter knife skittering off the surface and down onto the floor with a clatter.  
  
“Dustin, fuck—” Steve gasps, breaking off into a whine as Dustin shoves his free hand between the counter and Steve’s ass, trying to rub his fingers against Steve’s hole through his pants, but finding that the denim’s too thick.  
  
He can’t help but groan in disappointment, and Steve echoes the sound, dick twitching and spilling more precome against Dustin’s fingertips in response. Dustin rewards Steve by pulling him away from the counter, catching him when he stumbles and using the extra room to slip his free hand down the back of Steve’s jeans, driving two fingers down his cleft of his ass as far as he can reach, petting at the soft skin there, just shy of his hole – it’s a little teasing touch that has Steve whining into Dustin’s mouth and burying his fingers in Dustin’s curls, angling his head to better be able to curl his tongue around Dustin’s.  
  
In the back of Dustin’s mind he’s aware that he should probably undo Steve’s jeans so that he can pull them down and give himself more room to work, but that would mean pulling his hands away from Steve, and Dustin doesn’t want to let up either touch – not when Steve’s cock is twitching and spilling precome with every press of Dustin’s fingertips, and Steve's ass is rocking back against Dustin’s hand like he can somehow force Dustin’s fingers into his hole.  
  
“Like this,” Dustin groans instead, shoving his hips into Steve’s, rutting against him, searching for friction against his dick, “I’ll do it like this, and everyone will be able to see your face when I make you come, and they’ll— they’ll _know_.”  
  
Steve cries out, cock flexing against Dustin’s touch as he shudders and the fabric of his jeans grows wet beneath Dustin’s hand.  
  
Dustin keeps on rubbing at Steve’s cockhead, keeps petting at his ass, but pulls his head back to see the lost expression on Steve’s face – the way he’s flushing pink as he pants and whines but doesn’t push Dustin’s hands away, lost in pleasure as he keeps coming in violent pulses against Dustin’s fingertips, like it’s never gonna stop.  
  
Dustin groans and leans forward to press his lips against Steve’s throat, licking his way up to his jawline where he starts to suck a new mark to add to Steve’s collection, one that’s not hidden beneath Steve’s collar and is far too visible, but at the moment Dustin doesn’t care – all his focus is centered on where he’s shoving his dick up against Steve’s hips, the friction borderline painful, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care—  
  
“Fuck,” Steve moans, butting Dustin’s fingers away from his cock and shoving one of his own hands against Dustin’s groin, cupping his balls, searching out his dick and rubbing, pressing, and Dustin comes with a whine, gulping for air against Steve’s neck.  
  
“Fuck,” Steve says again after a moment, running his hands across Dustin’s shoulders, “the _mouth_ on you.”  
  
Dustin grins, panting as he licks at Steve’s throat and leans back to admire the new hickey that he’ll no doubt be getting an earful about later.  
  
“I’m hungry,” he says, pulling his hand out of the back of Steve’s pants, and feeling a rush of affection when Steve shakes his head in what looks to be fond exasperation.   
  
“Well, you’re in luck,” he sighs, “because we have ham sandwiches ready to go.”  
  
Dustin grins. “Can we eat them in bed?”  
  
Steve considers this. “Yeah, alright, you little horndog. Now help me clean up this mess. But wash your hands first, fuck! And don’t step in the butter!”  
  
//  
  
“Steve!” Dustin exclaims as soon as Steve answers the phone. “Finally! I’m at Mike’s, and I need to you bring me my dice.”  
  
“Your what?” Steve mutters, voice slurred like he just woke up – which is probably true, it being eight in the morning on a Saturday, and all.  
  
“My dice, Steve,” Dustin patiently explains, looking over his shoulder to check that no one’s listening in on the call, but the Wheelers’ kitchen is empty. “I thought they were in my room, but I couldn’t find them this morning. They’re probably at your place. Check my bag!”  
  
“Mhm,” Steve says, sounding like he’s gonna fall back to sleep at any moment.  
  
“Steve! Go check my bag in your room!”  
  
Steve grumbles something unintelligible, but then Dustin can hear him set the receiver down. He settles back to wait, drumming his fingers against the top of the kitchen island, and it doesn’t take long for Steve to return.  
  
“Found them, I think,” he says.  
  
“Great! Now bring them over!”  
  
Steve groans. “Can’t you just borrow someone else’s dice?”  
  
“What? _No!_ I need my lucky dice!” Dustin lowers his voice. “I’m pretty sure Mike’s planning on springing a balor on us. A _balor_, Steve! I’m gonna need all the luck I can get!”  
  
“Uh,” Steve says, “okay.”  
  
“So when can you get here?”  
  
“Give me fifteen minutes,” Steve sighs.  
  
“You’re a life saver!” Dustin tells him. “Thank you! I love you! See you later!”  
  
He hangs up before Steve has a chance to reply and hurries down the stairs to the basement, where the rest of the Party are gathered around the table, slouched in their chairs as they wait to start the day’s session.  
  
“Crisis averted!” Dustin proclaims as he joins them at the table. “Steve will be here with my dice in fifteen!”  
  
“Finally,” Mike mutters, as Lucas leans across the table, an interested glint in his eyes.  
  
“Steve, huh?” he says. “That’s great. He’s a _great_ guy. Will, don’t you think— ow!”  
  
“No influencing the betee!” Max cries, fist raised, before Will has a chance to respond.  
  
“That’s not even a word!” Lucas complains and rubs at his arm. “And what, you’re saying that just because of the bet I can’t be a good, supportive friend anymore?”  
  
“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying! Especially when you’re only trying to talk him into telling Steve before summer so that you can win and cheat me out of thirty bucks!”  
  
“But Steve deserves to know! And he won’t mind!” Lucas pauses, before turning to Dustin. “I mean, eventually he won’t mind. He’s probably gonna freak out at first, but he’ll get over it. Or he won’t, and you’ll have to live with it until you leave for college, but then you won’t be living in the same place anymore and it won’t be awkward!”  
  
Dustin scowls as Lucas dodges another punch from Max.  
  
“Maybe I already told him,” he says.  
  
“Uh,” Mike says, exchanging a look with El. “No offense, Dustin, but you’re pretty lousy at keeping secrets.”  
  
“Am not! Why does everyone say that?!”  
  
The conversation devolves into an argument from there, until the doorbell rings and they all quiet down to listen. Upstairs, Mr. Wheeler’s heavy footsteps can be heard moving across the living room floor, followed by the sound of the front door opening and the quiet murmur of voices. A few moments later Steve appears at the top of the basement stairs.  
  
“Fuck, why is that still so awkward?” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair as he descends the steps.  
  
Dustin perks up when he sees him. “Steve!” he cries, getting up and rushing forward to grab his dice pouch out of Steve’s hands. “Yes! You’re amazing!”  
  
“Yeah, well,” Steve says, reaching out to pat Will on the shoulder as he rounds the table and collapses onto the couch. “I’m just gonna crash here for a bit before I head into work.”  
  
“I woke him up,” Dustin explains as Steve grunts in affirmation, struggling to get his jacket off before he finally manages to free his arms and lie back down.  
  
“We’re not gonna be quiet just because you’re here,” Max says, shooting Steve a challenging look over her shoulder.  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve mutters. He crosses his arms over his chest and closes his eyes, and his breathing evens out almost immediately.  
  
Mike shrugs. “Let’s get started, then.”  
  
They settle down and set off, delving into a dark, cold cavern in search of a missing princeling – and, hopefully, some treasure. With the help of Will’s cleric, El’s mage manages to obliterate a horde of goblins lying in wait for them in the shadows of the buried throne room, but there’s no gold chest to be found, and no trace of any princeling either; just thick cobwebs and old, dry bones swept into piles in the corners of the room.  
  
Dustin tries to stay focused on the storyline as Mike takes them deeper into the cave system, but his attention keeps straying, because in the gap between where Max and Lucas are sitting he’s got a great view of the couch – of Steve’s profile as he rests – and watching Steve relaxed in sleep has quickly become one of Dustin’s favorite pastimes.

Lucas is not helping matters, either; he quickly catches on to what’s stealing Dustin’s attention and keeps shooting him meaningful looks from across the table, like he wants to convince Dustin that his motives are completely altruistic in nature, but it really only makes him look like an idiot when he wiggles his eyebrows like that.  
  
“—large crevice appears. Lucas and Dustin both lose their footing, falling into the dark depths. Their screams—”  
  
“Hold up!” Lucas tears his eyes away from Dustin to glare at Mike. “Where did the crevice come from?!”  
  
“Oh, I dunno,” Mike says slowly, voice gradually rising in volume as he glowers at them from behind his Dungeon Masters’ screen, “maybe you’d both know if you’d been _paying attention!_”  
  
The ensuing argument wakes Steve, who groans and wipes a hand across his face. “Fuck,” he says. “What time is it?”  
  
“I’ll tell you the time,” Lucas says, managing to somehow glare at both Mike and Dustin at the same time, which is impressive seeing as they’re sitting at almost opposite sides of the table. “It’s time to stop withholding damn vital information!”  
  
“Or maybe it’s time for you to shut up, dickhead!” Dustin snaps, while in the background Will proves to be more helpful, in that he turns around to give Steve the actual time.  
  
“At least someone’s still got manners,” Steve grumbles.  
  
He pushes himself upright, stretching, his arms raised high and shirt riding up to expose a thin sliver of stomach, and Dustin immediately zeroes in on it – in the last few weeks he’s been kind of conditioned to sit up and pay attention whenever Steve bares any kind of skin, because there’s a seventy percent chance that it will end with Dustin getting his dick wet. In the corner of his eye he can see Lucas turning to Max, gesturing wildly at Dustin, but she only groans, leaning down to thump her forehead against the table.  
  
“Well, I’m out,” Steve announces, grabbing his jacket before finally seeming to notice the general mood of the room – more specifically, the air of contention that hovers over the Party like a dark cloud. He shoots a questioning look at Max, visibly wincing when she bounces her head off the table again. “Uh, alright. Not even gonna ask. See you shits later.”  
  
He walks behind Dustin on his way towards the stairs, reaching out to run his fingers through Dustin’s hair, and Dustin’s heartbeat picks up as fingertips brush against the edge of his ear before Steve ruffles his curls at the very last moment; Dustin’s left to half-heartedly slap at Steve’s hand instead of leaning into the touch, like he’d do if they were alone.  
  
The display makes Lucas groan and mutter something to Max under his breath, and while Dustin can’t hear what was said over the pounding of his heart due to Steve touching him like that in front of everyone, whatever it was has Steve pausing at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he says, turning around, and Dustin can see that he’s got that familiar look of determination in his eye – can feel his own gut do a flip because he kinda knows what’s going to happen even before Steve strides forward, reaching out to cup Dustin’s face in hands, and then stoops to kiss him.  
  
It’s a small, soft kiss, just a short press of Steve’s lips to Dustin’s, very G-rated, but Dustin still feels his face burning like it’s been set on fire as five pairs of eyes suddenly bore into him.  
  
“There,” Steve announces as he pulls back, stroking his right thumb over Dustin’s cheek, where the others can’t see it. “Cat’s out of the bag.” Then, to Dustin, he says, “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”  
  
Dustin nods, reaching out to tug at the collar of Steve’s jacket, pulling him back down so that he can give Steve another kiss – a proper one that’s a little wetter, a bit deeper, because here is finally a chance at payback for having to watch Mike shove his tongue down El’s throat on a regular basis.  
  
“Okay,” Steve murmurs into Dustin’s mouth when they come up for breath, “hey, I do actually have to get to work.”  
  
“Sorry,” Dustin says, even though he’s not really, and true to form Steve’s grinning as he pulls away and turns to head up the stairs.  
  
For a moment, silence reigns in the basement as the sounds of Steve’s footsteps fade.  
  
“So.” Dustin clears his throat. “How deep is the, uh, crevice?”  
  
“Are you _kidding me?!_” Lucas shrieks, standing up and sending his chair flying backwards.  
  
“Just so you guys know,” Max says, “I’m keeping the money.”  
  
//


End file.
